


Sticks and Stones

by GraduateGraduate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Belts, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Coming When Called, Compliments Make Dean Really Uncomfortable, Crying, Fluff and Smut, If Emotional Fluff Counts, Impact Play, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Safewords, Self-Loathing, Subspace, Top Castiel, coming on command, traffic lights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 22:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11930553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraduateGraduate/pseuds/GraduateGraduate
Summary: Dean's always known he's an attractive guy, but that doesn't keep him from feeling entirely unworthy of Cas' affection.  But Cas is determined to let Dean know just how much he adores him, even if he has to tie him down and beat it into him.Established relationship in canon universe.  Just a short, emotional/fluffy? porn piece.





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my self-indulgent dumpster fire of a fic. Unbetaed trash. Probably my least responsible bdsm fic.
> 
> If someone could just get my therapist to return my calls, I wouldn't have to subject you to this.

“God, you’re beautiful.”Cas is gazing at him again, like he does.It always makes Dean a little uncomfortable, and now is no exception.He stiffens a little at Cas’ words; his shoulders tighten involuntarily, and Dean rolls them a little and tries to pass it off as a shrug. 

“Right,” is all Dean can say in response.He rolls his eyes and shoves his elbow as playfully as he can manage into Cas’ ribs.

All of this was still kinda new to him: having someone who he expected to crawl into bed with him at the end of a hunt; having someone who knew and accepted his lifestyle for what it was; who was happy to join him on the road instead of asking him to ‘settle down’; having someone look at him like he’d hung the moon.Parts of it he was enjoying and getting used to: Cas was good company, even when his companionship was just a silent, warm body in the car next to him.He could work the knots out of Dean’s shoulders that Dean just couldn’t get to on his own, and he had _other_ ways of helping Dean relax.

Unfortunately, when Cas wasn’t dealing blows, once the last of their energy was spent, Cas would stare at Dean in a way that made his skin crawl a little.The back of his neck would prickle, and he’d be hyper-aware of his breathing, of how his scars must look in this light, of all the mistakes he’s ever made; of how incredibly unworthy he was of the man lying next to him.

“Seriously, Dean,” Cas usually allows Dean the dignity of letting his words roll off him like water over oil.He’d say it once and move on.Today was proving different.“You’re beautiful,” Cas traces Dean’s eyebrow with his thumb.

Dean curls in on himself a little.As if by making himself a little bit smaller, he might be able to physically avoid Cas’ words.

“You really don’t see it, do you?”Cas’ voice is full of stunned wonder.His eyes are searching Dean’s, but Dean can’t bring himself to make eye contact.He’s looking at his own hands, trying not to ball the sheets into fists.Trying not to show off all of his nerves.

Cas goes to stroke Dean’s face again, but Dean swats his hand away.

“Just drop it, will you?” Dean grunts roughly.

“Fine,” Cas concedes with a sigh.“But it doesn’t change the fact that you are.”

Dean rolls over, away from Cas, and pulls his knees to his chest and the covers up to his chin; hiding away from Cas’ affection as much as he can.

Cas presses a kiss between Dean’s shoulderblades before rolling the other way and giving him his space.

 

* * *

 

Almost a week passes before Dean is affronted by Cas’ affection again.It’s their first night back at the bunker after a trying hunt.Tough choices had been made, and Dean still isn’t sure they’d been the right ones.He’s just glad to be back in his own bed.Put time and distance and space between him and the destruction of the latest vamp nest.

Dean’s lying on his back, scrubbing his hands down his face when there’s a knock on the door.

“Yeah,” he calls.

It’s Cas.He has coils of rope in hand and Dean is instantly grateful for him.He always seems to know what he needs.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice is quiet.Gentle but commanding.“Take off your clothes.On your knees.”

Dean considers, for a moment, giving sass.Cas is wearing his leather belt, and Dean could probably goad him into a solid beating with a cheeky grin, a wink, and a moment’s hesitation.But he just doesn’t have the energy for cheek tonight.He rubs his temples before rolling to his feet, and stripping for Cas, dropping his clothes carelessly to the floor before kneeling at Cas’ feet, crossing his wrists behind his back.

Cas raises a single eyebrow at Dean’s pile of clothes; they’re not folded neatly the way Cas normally demands, but he lets it go without comment.

Without a word, Cas begins working the ropes around Dean.He starts with a simple chest harness, cinched round Dean’s ribs - tight enough to make it difficult for Dean to inhale to full capacity, but not tight enough to leave a mark.Once he’s finished winding the length of rope round and through and double checked his handiwork, Cas steps back.

“Up,” he says.“On the bed,” he jerks his head in that direction.

Dean does as he’s told.He doesn’t struggle as Cas creates a cuff on each wrist and ties him open to the head of the bed, repeating the process with his ankles until Dean’s spread-eagle across their mattress.Cas kisses him, firm but gentle, and Dean chases his lips when he pulls back.

Cas is standing at the end of their bed, fully clothed, just taking Dean in, when those three words slap Dean across the face.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

Dean grits his teeth and pulls at his restraints; even an inch of give allows him to hide the tiniest bit from the onslaught of Cas’ praise.It isn’t quite enough, though.He’s still naked, vulnerable, spread open across the bed under Cas’ gaze.He closes his eyes tight and tries to swallow down the little bit of anxiety that was starting to well up in his chest.

“Please, Cas,” Dean’s voice is gruff, but he’s close to begging.“Don’t.”Not today.He couldn’t take Cas’ kind words today.

The last time Cas had done this - tied him open and showered him with praise and adoration between gentle touches, kisses, and strokes - Dean had had a full-blown panic attack.Tears had sprung to his eyes, he’d choked on their safe word as his heart clogged his throat, and even though Cas quickly released him from his binds it wasn’t quick enough to keep Dean’s tears from spilling over.Dean had slept on the couch that night when Cas refused to leave his side, and he’d wept himself to a restless sleep, stuck somewhere between self-loathing and humiliation.

“Shh, Dean.I’ll give you what you need.”

Cas smooths his hands over Dean’s legs.The contact pulls Dean out of his own head and back into the moment.Cas leans down, taking Dean’s cock into his mouth, and for a moment Dean forgets the verbal assault.When his thoughts return, he decides even if he hears Cas’ words he doesn’t have to listen to them.Cas can say them and he can let them run off of him like water off a duck.

As if Cas can read his mind, he lets Dean fall from his mouth, steps back, and says, “I’m going to continue to tell you until you believe me.” 

Cas unbuttons his shirt, not deliberately slowly, but slowly enough that Dean’s left anticipating every inch of skin that’s about to appear.When the shirt’s tossed aside, Cas unbuckles his belt, and that noise - the jingle of the buckle - is music to Dean’s ears.Cas pulls it from his slacks in one smooth motion, and slaps Dean’s thighs with the soft end of it.Dean moans under the sharp strike, his skin flushing pale pink where the leather made contact.This is the kind of assault Dean enjoys.Given the choice between sticks and stones or words, he would pick sticks and stones any day of the week.

“You like that?”Cas’ voice is airy and teasing.“That what you need?”

Dean nods, grateful that Cas’ plans are different than he’d first thought.

Cas starts to unbutton his pants.Dean licks his lips, waiting patiently for whatever Cas decides to give him, but hoping those pants come off sooner than later.“If that’s what you need, I can work with that.Is that what you want?”

Dean nods fervently.Nothing compares to the rough sting of leather against flesh.Combined with the way the ropes constrict and support when they’re all that’s left holding him up long after his muscles have given out on him, the sensation was heavenly.And the week he’s had calls for the heavy-handed treatment.Dean needs to be pushed to the limits of what he can take.Maybe even past that.It’s what he _deserves_.

“Alright,” Cas concedes.“I’ll give you the belt. _But,”_ Cas is wrapping the supple leather around his hand, playing with the tension of it, “You’re going to have to listen to me tell you how beautiful you are while I do it.”

Dean tries not to flinch at Cas’ proposition.He could take that.He doesn’t have to believe a single word Cas tells him, he just has to bear it.He swallows hard.“What’s the alternative?” he rasps.

“I could just work you open and fuck you while telling you how beautiful you are.”

Well, _that_ choice is easy.“I’ll take the belt, thanks,” Dean says drily.He almost glares at Cas.

“Fair enough,” Cas sighs.“Not _my_ first pick, but it’s what I expected.”He unfastens the ropes binding Dean’s wrists and ankles to the bed, trapping him on his back.“Flip over.Hands and knees.”

Dean obeys without hesitation.Cas refastens Dean’s ankles to the foot of the bed; his wrists and thighs to the head of the bed.Dean has enough room to maneuver himself onto his elbows and knees with a little wiggle-room to adjust his hips and shoulders if they get tired, but he’s still very much Cas’ prisoner here.

Cas runs both hands down Dean’s arms, over his shoulders, across his back, placing kisses down the back of his neck and spine.“You are so gorgeous like this,” he whispers.

Dean grits his teeth.He wishes Cas would just get on with it.

Dean can feel the bed dip beneath him as Cas adjusts himself at the foot of the bed, and then with no warning there’s a sharp crack and Dean’s left cheek is blossoming in pain, a quick heat rushing to the surface of his skin.Cas’ fingertips trace the mark the belt leaves behind.It’s one of Cas’ harsher warm ups, but Dean is in no way shying away from the pain.Dean grunts as the next hit lands, and moans as the familiar, warm, gooey comfort rushes in behind the sharp sting.He relaxes heavy into his wrist cuffs, letting his shoulders stretch out as his muscles start to release.

Cas falls into a smooth rhythm.Their room is silent besides the crack of leather against skin, Dean’s grateful moans and Cas’ labored breathing.Between series of smacks, Cas soothes Dean’s hot skin with cool hands.

“You.Are so.Beautiful,” Cas’ hands graze across Dean’s ass, and Dean almost forgets what Cas has said when Cas forces Dean’s cheeks apart and runs his tongue across Dean’s entrance.

Dean moans loud and long into his pillow; the warm, wet contact of Cas’ tongue a welcome surprise.He relaxes fully into his restraints, nothing but ropes holding him in place, holding him together, as Cas licks and laps into him.Dean wishes he had a hand free.Wishes he could rub against the mattress at all, his cock bobbing and leaking gently between his legs, longing for friction; any friction.Dean gasps as Cas drags his fingernails against his raw skin.Cas grips Dean’s hips in firm hands, pressing his cheeks further apart, pushing his tongue as deep into him as he can manage.

Cas pulls back.There’s a soft click of a plastic lid, and then a lube-slick finger circles Dean’s entrance and tests his resistance.It finds close to none, and Cas muffles a moan into Dean’s shoulder blade as Dean encompasses him.Cas’ other hand explores Dean’s body as he presses and pulls; stretches and slides into and out of Dean with ease. 

Dean isn’t done with the belt yet; wants to feel its sharp crack against his shoulders, wants the soft leather to snap at his rear until he can’t take a single hit more; even a gentle one.He wants Cas to wrap it gently around his neck and use it to pull him back into a kiss, or as a handle while Cas fucks him.But Cas feels so good inside him, lighting his entire body on fire from the inside out, and there’s no way Dean’s going to ask him to stop.

“Ungh, Dean,” Cas moans.“You’re so tight.That beautiful ass is going to look so good wrapped around my dick.”Cas slips another finger in, and Dean moans as he’s stretched open around the extra digit.

Cas slips both fingers from him, licks a path across Dean’s hole all the way up his spine.The bed dips as Cas sits back on his heels, and then that belt is singing gently in the air again.It snaps against Dean’s left cheek.He moans heavily in response.He misses Cas’ fingers, but that sting, that’s what he’s really after.Cas sinks into a quiet rhythm again: left, right, left, right, left, left, right.He strikes Dean all across his ass, the backs of his thighs, and then he starts in, ever so gently, across Dean’s shoulders and back.

Every muscle in Dean’s body is starting to release.The endorphins are setting in and soothing each of his cells.He feels impossibly heavy.The ropes at his wrists bite into his skin as he gives up on supporting himself and relies on them instead.He can feel his mind starting to sink under, starting to settle into that comfortable, safe space Cas creates for him.Where all he has to do is breathe and relax and take it.And Cas will dish out exactly as much pain as he can handle - nothing more, nothing less - before fucking Dean into the mattress and milking the last of Dean’s tension into his hand.Dean lets himself fall under; lets every wave of pain mix with pleasure and wash over him; lets every conscious thought drift from his mind.

Dean loses all track of time.Every strike of Cas’ belt stings more, feels heavier-handed, sharper.Even just Cas’ fingerprints dragging gently against his flesh burns so much he almost needs it to stop.

Cas knows.He always does.Dean breathes heavily as Cas delivers three last blows - each gentler than the last - until he drops the belt with a clang to the floor.Dean can barely register the fact that Cas is talking to him, can only just make out the sound of Cas’ jeans being worked off and cast aside.And then Cas is working him open again, still gently, but with a more hurried purpose.

“You’re so good, Dean.So beautiful.So good for me,” Cas cooes as he fucks Dean with his fingers.Two becomes three, and then Dean can feel the head of Cas’ cock pressing ever so slowly into him.

Dean doesn’t have the energy or the wits about him to do anything but breathe, and moan.He might even be drooling a little, as Cas presses into him, inch by inch, taking his sweet time, making sure Dean is ready for what comes next.

“So beautiful,” Dean can barely hear the praise.He can hear Cas’ words, but they float just above him.He’s not even sure they’re for him; he can’t tell.Either way, he’s safe here, in the dark.Blanketed in heat and throbbing pain and all the endorphins that come with it.

And then Cas has pressed all the way home, his hips flush with Dean’s, and the pressure of his skin against Dean’s raw flesh lights Dean on fire anew.Cas feels so good, but it’s also a little too much.Dean’s pain is intense and his need for release is overwhelming.He can feel tears spring to his eyes as Cas pulls back and fucks back into him, each thrust like sand paper dragging roughly against an opening wound.

Dean moans.It’s wet and ragged and he sounds as wrecked as he feels.He’s leaking steadily now, he’d give anything to be able to lie down fully, to fuck against the mattress as Cas fucks into him.Cas pauses inside him, halfway in, half out, afraid to move.

“Dean?” his voice is kind, concerned.“Dean, are you okay?Do you need me to stop?”

Dean shakes his head.The last thing he wants is for Cas to stop.He needs this: to be fucked until he hurts, until he won’t be able to sit down the next day.But shaking his head frees his tears, and he doesn’t know what Cas will do if he sees him crying. _Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,_ Dean’s need is loud in his own head, but he can’t make his mouth form words.He can’t find voice; can’t even swallow, his mouth and throat are so dry.

“Dean, you’re crying,” Cas is thumbing tears from Dean’s cheeks, his voice just on the edge of alarmed.“I’m going to stop, okay?I’m going to pull out and take care of you, okay?”

Dean shakes his head as hard as he can.No, this is right where he needs to be.On the edge of pleasure and pain; at the limit of what he can handle, a breath away from _too far_.This is the ledge he needs to be teetering on.And he needs to come so badly.

Dean swallows hard and pulls out the only word he can find.“Green!” he gasps.

“Green?” Cas sounds startled.He hesitates, running his hands gently down Dean’s shoulders, so careful not to adjust his weight at all within Dean.“That’s your colour?”

Dean nods, the motion rubbing the tears from his cheek into the pillow.

“Green,” Cas repeats.“You’re sure?”

Dean nods again.

Cas leans down and presses a kiss to the back of Dean’s neck, pressing into him ever so slightly as he shifts his weight.“You’re so good for me, Dean.So beautiful,” and then he’s fucking Dean again, and Dean’s pleasure is audible only as one unintelligible noise.He lets himself drift back under, to the place where he doesn’t have to do anything but take it.

Cas’ teeth graze his shoulder, biting gently into the meat of it, and then his hand is wrapping around Dean’s cock.Dean moans at the much-needed contact.Cas is fucking into him hard and fast, fucking him into Cas’ fist with every thrust.Dean grits his teeth.The sheer amount of sensation - the stretch of Cas, the slap of rough skin against his sensitive ass, Cas’ grip on him that tightens and quickens with every thrust, it’s all so much that Dean doesn’t even notice right away that Cas’ moaning out a litany of adorations.Each one would be a personal affront if they weren’t falling on nearly-deaf ears.It’s all too much, and Dean has almost resigned himself to living on this edge forever, surrendered to eternal frustration.The tears springing from his eyes now are no longer in response to the slap of skin against raw skin or even the fervid repetition of just how _beautiful_ Cas thinks he is, but to the fact that he just, can’t, come, and if he can’t come soon he just might die.

A sob catches in the back of Dean’s throat.He chokes on it before it falls out of his mouth, a muffled wail.Even in his fuzzy, foggy state, he realizes quickly that he needs to follow that with a word or Cas will stop.He finds one to chase it with.“Come,” he cries.“Please.” _I need to._

Cas’ grip on Dean tightens, and he fucks into him as hard, as fast, as deep as he can physically manage.Dean can feel every inch of Cas pull and push in him, can feel the gentle burn of being stretched round Cas’ girth on every re-entrance.Dean’s sobbing quietly into his pillow, surrendered to the frustration, to being held back from falling over, to the crashing wave of his pleasure being held just out of reach by some unknown force.

“Come for me, Dean,” Cas’ voice is rough and commanding.

Dean’s body surprises him and obeys.His pleasure pulses through him, crashes over him, and it almost _hurts_ it feels so good.Dean lets out an anguished cry as he comes hot over Cas’ hand.

“You’re so beautiful when you come,” Cas’ words fall over him like a warm blanket.And for a second, Dean can’t help himself.He might believe them.

Cas never lets go of him.He fucks him through his orgasm, drains every last drop from him, and just as Dean is nearly sure he can’t take anymore, Cas is chasing him over the edge with a stuttered moan that catches in his throat.

Dean might as well be dead to this world.He hangs in his restraints, every muscle having given out.That familiar afterglow sets in over Dean: warm, fuzzy, protective, safe.He barely registers Cas’ last few thrusts, or him collapsing over Dean.And every kiss Cas presses into Dean’s skin feels like it’s being described to him from lightyears away.

The next thing Dean does register is Cas undoing his restraints; his limbs being straightened and checked; his body being gently lowered to the bed.Cas rubs soothing circles into his back, pets his hair, and coats him in compliments.He’s just a steady stream of praise, of reverence and adoration, and Dean is too tired, too worn out, too blissed out to fight him on it.For once, Cas has fucked all the fight out of him.Dean just takes it.Lets every word flow over him, blanket him, as he falls asleep beneath Cas’ gentle touch.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Dean finds himself tied open, spread-eagled on their bed with no room in his restraints to curl up and nowhere to hide while Cas tells him how beautiful he is, Cas’ words fill him with an unfamiliar warmth instead of dread.

From then on, when Cas fucks him - slowly, gently - while kissing him long and languid, only pulling back to look at him with adoration; when Cas pauses between thrusts just to take him in as if he’s seeing Dean for the very first time; when Cas says, “God, Dean, you are so _beautiful_ ,” Dean merely blushes - just the tiniest hint of heat beneath his cheeks - and lets the words embrace him.

From then on, Dean whispers back.

“ _Thank you_.”


End file.
